


Of Masks and Nests

by psycheTerminal



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Dreamlike, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Loss, Post-Embrace the Void Ending (Hollow Knight), Psychological Horror, Unreliable Narrator, foresight, future vision sucks, oracular visions, there is no plan only gorb, unbeta'd we die like PK
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psycheTerminal/pseuds/psycheTerminal
Summary: Having an abyssal god for a sibling, even well-intentioned can be... Difficult. And strange, but maybe there's something worth grasping. Hope is such a difficult thing to keep alive. Expanded from one-shot. Unbeta'd.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	1. Masks Falling Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet finally mourns it all.

The stone plinth, so long carrying the slumbering form of her mother's corpse lay empty while the ghost of Hallownest faced the rest of the horrors in store. They show so little reaction to it all, staring or tugging for attention on the rare occasion or watching it offer geo to that odd singing mosquito for his maps. It-no, they-are now gone. She knows not how. Only that their skull lay cracked in two upon the floor of the temple. Her siblings are now gone and she had to get up and carry on.

As if nothing had happened. As if they had just been tools that completed a job. She'd picked up that shattered mask and its pieces, placing it into an unused bag, tying it closed securely. She starts walking and she has to keep walking and not stop because she has to be responsible one.

She's their princess. She's the daughter of god and beast, the union of nation and Deepnest clans.

She's numb as she explains things to the Elderbug in Dirtmouth. Asking him to be ready for any survivors and that it is now safer to wander but that she'd rather people not disturb the rest.

Hallownest is a tomb. She is among the living dead.

She runs across the thorns, her pads protected provided she doesn't spend long enough to let them sink in. She doesn't know where she's going until she arrives to the distant village. She doesn't see, she just runs and runs through any wild creature who dares approach her with graceful precision. She sets the bag beside the plinth. She gathers things her mother made that survived the stasis upon the plinth, placing them and sets seals of protection and preservation upon them. She keeps the remains of her mother's murderer on her as she goes about trying to find survivors. 

She checks houses, finds dead Hallownest bugs drained of their vital fluids and sighs at the cannibalism but moves on quickly. She'll give them to the Resting Grounds later. She finds a few spiders. No weaverlings, the survivors are all gone. She finds the Midwife. She gathers them in the Beast's den and she takes a seat upon the bar set up for 'guests' that the den entertained before tying them up for consumption or killing. She's not going to try to be larger than them. She knows she is tiny before them. "Herrah the Beast died in service of defeating the infection. Some of you may have been freed by the actions that led to such. In her absence, I am in charge. I'm sane enough and her daughter. As princess of Hallownest, Deepnest retains its independence once I choose a regent whose sanity isn't questionable. I do not know the lifespan my sire granted me, as the stasis kept many bugs from aging properly within the kingdoms. You may notice I have not yet attained my final moulting.

"In the meantime, there are few of us, few bugs in Hallownest and too much to do. There will be absolutely no cannibalism of living beings. Eat the dead if you will, they are too dead to care. Gather up survivors and show everyone we are the most intelligent of species. I have my honors to pay for the one who saved what's left. Hallownest is finished. There are no true heirs, despite me being called princess. Deepnest is finished, there are too few to call this a kingdom. We can only band together to survive, as a new people. We lack a god but we've never needed gods. If anything has ever helped us, it was the shadows. If we must worship anything, let it be the darkness that birthed the one that slew the scourge that destroyed the kingdom. I will accept any duels from those who disagree with these orders once I have done what I can to honor the honorable dead." Hornet spoke tersely. "Anyone want to step up now!?" She snapped.

All present shook their heads. "Good. I shall return."

She traveled through the labyrinth, taking circuitous routes to where she needed to go. It was fine if she wasn't where she needed to go immediately. She was sweeping it for survivors, right? And she needed to slow because Deepnest was dangerous-and so was she. Her needle found plenty of pray that went into her hunting bag, once drained of hemolymph. She rubbed her hands against the metal of her weapon as she came close to the failed tramway, the black egg the Mask Maker resided in still noisy with activity. He was still alive-that was good, right? 

She felt cold and drained as she walked in. "I have a mask for someone that needs repair. I know you don't usually repair masks for the dead, but if anyone deserves it, it's this one." She untied the bag and set it before the Mask Maker.

"Hmmmmm, yes I can repair indeed for a memorial to the kingdom. Yes, Hallownest contains many secrets. This mask is much too small for the one it belonged to now. Such contrast the Wyrm conceived, yes. Curious, mmmmm curious." He began to collect the pieces, grinding the smaller bits, adding ceramic and bits of water. "Sit, Gendered Child. You tire and your body is seeking release one way or another. This repair will take a while."

She collapsed into a corner, her numb hands releasing her needle. She felt ridiculous. Release? What release? She had done nothing. She had let it all go to ruin. She let out a quiet sob. She hadn't wanted the little ghost to die-why? She had hardly known them! Her siblings, they were-the tears started to fall. Was this what was left? Was this what the scales of fate given her? A lonely throne of an already damned kingdom born out of shame and blood?

She began to cry for the sealed vessel, who had never even had a chance to live and explore. The one she'd tried to play with and could hardly remember, same as her mother. She cried for her mother. She cried even for her father and she cried for the little vessel who'd sacrificed themself for everyone. Finally, she cried for herself, until she had no more tears to shed. Her hands no longer felt numb and she felt wrung out, yet clean.

"None of this was my fault, or in my control." She spoke to herself. "Let the darkness take this guilt and eat it." She spat.

"It loves to eat things like that. The Lord of Shades is very kindly when wakeful, pale princess." The Mask Maker chattered.

She frowned as he held out a helm much larger than the tiny grub-sized broken mask she'd given him. "What is this?" She demanded.

"Your sibling's mask, of course." He said, his cheerful voice.

It had more horns. More eye holes. Larger. It filled her with a strange dread. "My sibling is dead. They aren't about to grow and I want to remember them."

He laughed. "Mmmmm, curious, curious. Child of Wyrm, your larger sibling certainly does rest eternally, released from their pain." He held to her a small replica of the Hollow Knight's mask. "But the other is not a vessel any longer. They are the void and the Lord of Shades wakes. You go get them and go raise your new kingdom." He held out a strange cloak. "This will protect you from the privations of the abyss for a time. But you won't care once it's too long. It'll feel like home and you'll love your sibling even more." 

"Deepnest is my home!" She snapped.

"Has it ever been? Truly?" He queried.

She snatched the replica, mask and cloak. "I'll see what you are talking about. I shall have words if it is a fool's errand you send me on." She snarled. "I do not suffer distractions well."

"Oh, but daughter of Hallownest. I only live to serve, not trick, it is all for a world deserving." He spoke with a surprising compassion. "Those without faces, those who need. A focus. To exist. The masks provide such a thing and those called to me deliver. You should not tarry longer."

She fled there, thoughtful. Maybe there was hope yet.


	2. Blood on Your Hands Tells on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet explores the Abyss. A few edits since the italics didn't paste correctly from gDrive

Hornet is in mourning, not thinking straight and she knows the abyss is not suitable for such as her. The door has remained open after the small vessel opened it with the King's Brand and she pulls the dark cloak over her form. This is crazy. This strange fabric was never going to work.

Damn it all, she is going to descend.

She feels warm under the cloak as she stores her needle, carefully securing the silk to the top and rappelling down best she can. She hops from platform to platform, leaving soul silk behind. She leaves silk sign on the very last one, different ones on each side as a makeshift compass. 

She tries not to be sick as the skulls crack under her pads. She makes it quick, trying to find her way. Maybe the vessel would be away from the lighthouse.

She finds statuary, some very unnerving. A metal-floored study with odd eggs with inscriptions on the outside that she could barely read, the script was so old and outdated. She didn't stay long, she had a time limit and she wasn't sure what that was.

 _You will start to not care, it will feel like home_. That was the warning sign. She certainly was unnerved by all this, still! She had other thoughts like why didn't I ask the Mask Maker about the Abyss and void before? And how does he know about all this, anyway?

She found her way out of the room full of tiny skulls and found herself trying to remain stoic as she picked her way through the mass grave. This was sick, monstrous. She found a passage at last and fled the necropolis. What was she doing here? The area ahead was at least somewhat brighter, with a bright light somewhere cutting through the gloom. 

She rested briefly against the lighthouse. The atmosphere was a little less oppressive here. A tiny presence popped out of the ground, black all over with white, unearthly eyes and the impression of horns. Four horns, in fact; the eyes bore hatefully into her, as if it recognized her and it took her a moment to realize _oh, that's one I slew._ It made a tiny roar and she turned to run. A ghost didn't seem like something she could dispatch with her needle! Her heart pounded as she began to ascend up the lighthouse. With each step, a new spirit appeared, with different horns, the same eyes and the same hatred she could somehow sense. 

How dare she. "Why are you angry with me? I was trying to protect what was left of my kingdom. I aided little Ghost and I come to aid him again!" She yelled into the darkness. "Why do you chase me!?"

That didn't help, in fact it drew a lot more and she scrambled faster until she got to the final step. At the top was a huge shade with a crack over its face, staring over the expanse of the void sea. Her sibling that she'd grown up with. "...it's _you_." She choked.

The eyes snap to her. The shade held out a hand to her and she accepted it with her heart pounding. They led her inside and shut the door against the other sibling spirits, who screamed out their hate and dismay. She fell to her bottom, taking out water and drinking with hands that shook. She was an indomitable warrior, but she had never been mobbed by a mass of angry child spirits. It was a wholly new and entirely unwelcomed experience.

The shade waited for her to find herself and rise before lowering its head. "You. Remember me." She spoke with an ineffably heavy feeling. A nod. "Are you in pain here?" A shake of their head. "Are you at peace here?" A nod. "Thank you. I wish there was some way of repaying you for your action. You saved my life, I'm sure."

They nodded and pointed to the light. Mimicked flipping a switch. "Do you want me to turn it off?" She asked and they nodded.

She sighed and walked close to it, ignoring the tainted white corpse of a courtier, a husk long since dried out. "I don't have much time here. I need to deliver something to the sibling that set you free. Is there a way you can help me get it to them faster?" They nodded as Hornet braced herself and tugged at the switch.

The light switched off and the room was plunged into darkness. The oppressive atmosphere came back, but worse, almost choking. "I need to keep going." She stood up, wavering dizzily on her feet.

She stepped out of the lighthouse. No mob of sibling spirits to be seen. She turned. "It was… nice to see you. To actually be able to say a kind of goodbye. You deserved better than to be a sacrifice." She held out an arm. The large shade rubbed their head against it, an odd feeling indeed and solid. She felt emotion welling up. "You always did want to play with me, didn't you?"

They nodded and she half-embraced her sibling's shade. "I will never forget you, sibling. I will always remember you fondly. I must bid you my farewell here. Perhaps I will come on occasion to pay your spirit respects now that I have some protection." She wasn't sure why the tears kept coming down but she didn't mind, not here.

The Hollow Knight's shade let go and she backed away a step. They reached out for her as her vision darkened, not with tiredness but with ghostly presences and everything went sideways, the dark shapes rushing past her. She doesn't faint, she thinks but the white eyes that bore hatefully into her tell her exactly what she needs to know.

 _Ah, vengeance_ from those she murdered. It is the last thing she thinks before the ground rushes up and everything went dark.


	3. I Can See I'm Going Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet makes a delivery and tries to escape the abyss with shell and sanity intact. Caught a misgendering of Ghost. Whoops!

_Hornet rises, tears weeping from her eyes and she doesn't mind. Where was she going that had been so important? She makes no sounds, the cloak was nowhere to be seen, the red shawl almost a beacon against the eternal darkness. The sibling spirits tear at it and her as she stands, unseeing, her eyes leaking not salty tears but tears of void. She coughs up more of the stuff. She didn't think. Didn't feel. She was empty. She walks forward, on unthinking impulse towards the dark sea that calls out for her._

_Her elder sibling came walking beside her and took the greatnail off their back. They have mercy there and give it. There is nothing left to give mercy to as they plunge the nail through her chest._

Hornet woke, a scream tearing from her chest as she sat up. Her needle was already in her hand. What had that been, that dream? A nightmare? It had been _incredibly_ realistic-feeling. She couldn't see anything at first, until a large, familiar mask entered her vision. "You protected me, didn't you?" She asked.

The large shade nodded and mimicked shaking someone. "Then you shook me awake. Let us be on our way, then."

The smaller siblings were keeping their distance now as Hornet rose, feeling sore as she walked. She had bruised her side from apparently knocking into a platform on the way down, as well as her head and hip from falling, though it didn't feel as bad as the height of the fall should have been, though she supposed she should have been grateful.

She stopped before the lapping water. She hefted her needle. Should she cross? The vessel grabbed her arm and shook their head no. "No? Isn't our sibling across the water?"

They shook their head and pointed to the water. "In the water?" They waggled a hand.

She pulled out the mask. "In the water? Well, while I can swim, I am not sure I have the time left to look for our younger sibling in that murk." She knelt beside the water and rose her voice, picturing her sibling and praying best she could. "Ghost. If you can hear me, I have brought your mask, repaired and reshaped by the Mask Maker. I don't really understand what happened to either of you. To this place. You saved everything that was left, though that's little. The survivors will honor you, I will make sure of it. They will know you, our sibling's sacrifice. Your sacrifice. You saved them. You saved... me." She held out the mask, setting it into the water.

She felt… strangely welcomed. Emotions not her own echoed through her mind. Gratitude, curiosity, happiness. The restrained anger of abandonment, the rage at the Radiance, the anger at their father. The friendship and comradery towards friends and travel companions. The confusion. The mourning. The love for her and forgiveness.

_She doesn't lift her hands, she falls forward into the sea, into its endless peace and they comfort her in their kind, dark embrace. She can rest, she doesn't have to worry for they can_ _carry so much in their vastness and-_

She lifted her hands. She wasn't ready for _that_ kind of peace, she had too much to do. She stood up and took steps back as the water rose in a pillar, the mask atop this pillar, forming into a roughly bug-shaped mass. Tentacles and sharp claws lash out at the space around it; the anger was still there, she knew and likely would always be. That was good. "Righteous anger is a hard thing, but it's not a bad thing to carry. A great injustice was burdened upon you. Your quest may be finished but it seems your heart is not cold or empty." She stated. "I need to leave this place, before I become poisoned or a part of it. I am not as you are and I do not wish to find my death prematurely. You have the choice to come or not. But you cannot come while you lack control. Get a hold of yourself, Ghost." She spoke harshly.

She didn't quite hear but got the impression of laughter. <Ha. This one doesn't think you could handle a duel now. This one has beaten you in reality and dreams many times now.> Came an ambiguously-gendered voice in her head. <The Lord of Shades stands before you but Ghost… this name is acceptable. The one who took the brand, the one who gathered the Kingsoul charm and united the Void to destroy the blinding light and devour her. That is what this one is. Thank you for bringing… my mask.>

The form began to coalesce into something solid, four arms and legs. A bit taller than the vessel form, but not nearly so tall as the Hollow Knight's great height-about as tall as she, in fact. They flex a hand that looks like an actual one much like her own or their father's or sibling's, with the shine and firmness of carapace on it. "Thank the Mask Maker for repairing it later, on your own time. I accept the gratitude." 

She stepped closer and walked around them, partially judging and partially curious. There was a white mark on their chest, the elytra on their back patterned curiously with bumps. They weren't thin as their sibling, more stocky and substantial. The hips were more pronounced than in the Hollow Knight, oddly and there was a tail hanging down. They'd need a cloak above but there was no denying they were the king's child.

She was starting to get a headache as she stopped. "How are you speaking to me? Did you gain a voice? Is this some new ability? Let us walk now that you are no longer unstable." She did not wait, she started walking.

<This one did not gain a voice, exactly. This is the communion of a higher being to another with at least some blood. You are not a higher being yourself but your close blood allows this one to communicate with you.> They explained as they walked. <Thoughts, sentiments shared through symbols understood as words.>

It was getting easier to breathe at last in the Abyss for and she chalked it up to being beside its lord and heart. She reached the entryway to the necropolis and she pauses, swallowing her bile. "This next place. It is your birthplace, wasn't it."

<Yes. It disgusts you, seeing all the broken masks of our shared siblings, one can see.> Ghost spoke wryly.

"I do not think I could ever forget this shame and evidence of how many children the Wyrm murdered." She spoke angrily. "I hope he is dead."

<Yes. This one killed the shell that was left of him and consumed his soul.> They spoke, matter-of-fact.

"Good." Hornet spat. "Let us speak rarely of him unless we need to, King of Hallownest."

She forced herself to go over the masks. So many little newborns. So much blood on his hands, so much of a burden he forced onto everyone else he could. How _pathetic_ a bug! 

She had to take pauses to shake the bitterness and once, to retch up the bile left in her stomach. It was white, not black which was a relief to her but she was starting to slow and tire. How long had she been down here, walking? Her headache was worsening.

"Sibling, I need to rest. Let us be brief." She took out the tincture she saved for pains and washed down the bitter concoction with a rare bit of honey candy.

She leaned into them as they put an arm around her. <Hornet, what's wrong? You seem like you're in pain. This one could smell that medicine.>

"My head. I have been having odd dreams or visions. I had one when I touched the water to return your mask." She rubbed at her forehead. "I am probably just tired. I haven't had anything quite like this and I have been under quite considerably miserable circumstances since you appeared. No fault of yours, but the mind can only take so much."

<Then rest. This one will guard your body from the siblings.> They suggested.

She opens her mouth to argue before images roll across her vision.

_She demands they take no break, making the ascension. There's no time. She has an uncontrolled vision and the pain makes her fall._

_She rests long enough for the medicine. Not much time, making the ascent and has an uncontrolled vision. She still falls from the pain, the tincture merely making her stumble worse._

_She argues and stomps off in her anger to cool off but unable to fend off the angry siblings when they come._

_She rests fully and is able to catch herself when an uncontrolled vision takes her, she is able to reach the top._

"Yes. I'm more tired than I realize. Making the ascent up in my state is more dangerous than waiting long enough for a decent rest." She took a seat and lay on her pack. "The new visions insist on that."

This seemed _oddly_ familiar, she thought as she went to sleep. She didn't dream and for that, she was glad when she woke. She wasn't immediately sure where she was until she realized that Ghost was making odd, if soothing chirping sounds at her with her head in their lap. <You tossed and turned. So this one protected your head.> They informed her. <You seem refreshed. Drink and eat, then. Do not worry about sharing. This one doesn't need that.>

She dug out stale tea and a field ration to choke down quickly. She did feel considerably less shaken and more steady on her feet. She began the climb and stopped at the spot. A vision rocked her, leaving a minor headache in its wake.

- _she was tugging at one of her silk ropes and climbing when it fell, her with it-_

She tossed up a second lede rope, before climbing up. She saw at the top where one of the simple creatures had bitten through the silk. The rest of the climb was uneventful save for her wracking her memories. Why did her headache-inducing visions sound so familiar? She stopped by the tablet her fath-oh.

 _Oh_.

"Ah, the many sad things of the past few rests must have unlocked a bit of our sire's foresight within me. This explains things but brings up new troubles in its place. I do not recall enough to know if his foresight brought our sire more than pain of the heart." She grumbled. "Let us go. Will our taller sibling rest in that sea down below? I hope to spare them of this world and grant them their well-deserved respite."

<Of course. Though they can peer through this one's eyes should they wish. The heart or not, the void is gestalt, as well as individuals. Those ones that truly remain apart have reasons to remain so, usually painful ones.> The Shade Lord spoke gently.

"Onto Deepnest, to check for stragglers. After that, Dirtmouth for meaningful rest. I have been going for a long time and the events of the Mask Maker and up to my rest make me realize that I have exhausted myself. There is a great deal to do, Ghost of Hallownest. Thankfully, you have volunteered by claiming the brand to help." She declared.

<Ugh. This one supposes with sibling's memories, they know how to write well enough as well as do the most basic reading.> They grumbled. <That will need to change.>

Somehow lacking more than the most rudimentary of literacy didn't surprise Hornet at all.


	4. Holding Many Names Everywhere and Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opening bit is actually from Exalted, a tabletop roleplaying game. I thought it appropriate. Thank you very much to Tiki for input that helped shape this chapter for the better. Still not beta'd lol

_Once, there were…_ _  
__…shadows in the window._ _  
__…footsteps at the gates of life._ _  
__…whispering at the door:_ _  
__“Should I live or die? Am I living or dead?”_ _  
__“To know the world is to choose it,” says the Void._

_Scripture of Absence, Hymn to Secrets  
_

_(Banned during the Pale Era)_

Hornet was not fine on the way back to Deepnest. Was not fine as she found two mostly sane survivors. She held it together and guided them to Dirtmouth. Ghost followed as she hopped easily up the well, a _hup_ escaping as she landed elegantly. Bretta gave a gasp and cheered at her return. The young bug didn't say very much aloud, but was easily impressed. Iselda bowed out of her home, coming out into the night air as Ghost came up, glittering wings spreading out proportionally to support their flight. It was an odd sight for a creature of the void to be sure but none here knew the secret but her to appreciate the irony.

"Oh, another few survivors. Welcome to the town." Iselda intoned, cheerfully enough away from her counter.

The two spiders were young, walking up shyly in silence to the mosquito. Ghost walked up to her, head tilted in silence. Right, she wouldn't be able to hear them. "Iselda, do you recall a small, silent wanderer with a fierce air who purchased supplies from your shop recently?" Hornet asked tiredly.

"The little wanderer who bought the preliminary copies of all of Cornie's maps? Oh, of course. It's not like there were many other customers to speak of, or any other for that matter." She commented.

"Something happened below when the infection was destroyed. They have returned anew to the surface. They will need a slate. Chalk. A cloak. I require rest, direly and privacy. The events were horrifying and I am running on nothing but absolute raw will." Hornet's voice went increasingly flat. But she couldn't help but laugh. Hallownest still had a god-king, how ironic.

Iselda led Hornet first to an unoccupied home with thick walls that nobody wanted because it was too warm for most bugs and the spiders to homes of their own, which they disappeared into silently. She settled Hornet in, even tucking her in under blankets. She was too emotionally tired to argue about the fussing. "I'll check on you in a few hours, Hornet. This house has a pump inside if you get thirsty."

Iselda left her there. Ghost was standing patiently as she went to grab some kind of cloak and pin that she thought might suit the now tall wanderer. They knelt to make it easier and she frowned at the brand on their skin; they flinched a little at a touch. "What is this? Did someone hurt you?" It looked white, a deep scar of a brand. She'd seen a few in her days as a mercenary and those were typically… "Is this magic?" She asked more directly.

A nod. 

She would have to ask about that later. She fastened the cloak. "I am sorry I touched it without permission, wanderer. I wasn't thinking."

They patted her shoulder, seemingly in forgiveness. They looked much more civilized in a clean, fresh cloak. Their old one had been pretty worn from travels. She stepped back. "You look very distinguished! Come here." She led them to the back of the house where an art station sat, enclosed from the elements. The large mirror showed the two as they were and the wanderer startled at their own reflection. They posed and held out a hand. A nail appeared in their hand, pitifully small, more for their old size than their current one. Shadows covered it and it seemed to be stretched out, into wires of pale ore that kept the shape of the pure nail before filling the space between and hardening. A mix of deepest shadows and holy metal, a nail of much more suitable size that they sheathed at their back as usual. They bowed their head at Iselda as she stared. "Ah, sorry. Board and chalk. I'll get those like Hornet asked."

She returned with haste, the wanderer holding the chalk experimentally and making some shaky practice lines. They used the cloth with it to clear it. They drew the mask of their old form, then a few shaky runes. She squinted at them. They were _ancient_ -but they weren't too different from what she was used to. "Called… Ghost?" She read off. "You're called Ghost?"

They nodded and erased. They started writing their explanation and her eyes went wide. "Oh my goodness."

It took a while to write and explain between their limited command of runes, the shift in writing systems and dialect and their own terrible writing.

"Let me help you out now. Most people aren't going to understand that written dialect. I can teach you the current most common one around here. It's mostly just simplified." She wrote out their names they had told her, sounding out each part. "Why did you tell me, Ghost?"

[Sound tired. Seen much. Love lot in heart.] They wrote before erasing it.

She watched a bit as they began copying their name and titles. "I'll be back. I'll go check on your sister. Keep practicing."

Iselda got up and stopped first at her house, getting a mixed drink of water and a little bit of alcohol to cut it for any sickness. And then a shot more. 

She sighed. "Oh? Honey, is everything alright?" Cornifer turned in their comfy bunk to face her, concern immediately in his voice.

She swirled the drink and took a solid draw. "The little wanderer who bought all our goods is called Ghost. They were able to write with a slate to me their story."

Cornifer wiggled out and popped onto his feet. He came to the sitting mat beside the table and took her hand. "A lot of sad stories are out there, dear but such burdens are lightened when a decent bug can listen."

She rubbed her free hand over her face, then an antenna before taking another drink. "That poor child had to watch their siblings kill each other, then their father kill other siblings for stupid reasons, then having to personally kill the one screaming for death because they were in agony from holding that infection raging below. Which is gone now. Not to mention the people who actually tried to kill them who _weren't even infected._ "

Cornifer shivered. "Sounds like Ghost had a most difficult life before and in Hallownest."

She finished her glass. "They are from here, the child of the king. Hornet's sibling. They are, by right the ruler and a god now. What is wrong with this place?" She didn't yell, merely sounding sad.

He nuzzled against her face. "They are with people who care about the person they are, not the god, not the… I suppose neither king nor queen work? Ruler of the land. The infection is gone and those children have a chance to do new things. A lot of death happened here, maybe it is too late for this place. What do you want to do? We usually wrap up and move on. Do you want to do that again?"

She thought. Usually, the wind would be pulling at her thorax for the road but… "No. I. Don't want to leave. For some reason, I don't want to be another adult who abandoned these children to whatever hurts the world throws at them. I like this house, even if the door is small and any place love lives is home. You are here, you are home." She nuzzled him. "Let's stay and see what these children build."

Once the alcohol burned through her, she went to check on Hornet while Cornifer headed over to check on Ghost.

"Oh, my! Pupation was kind to you! My wife mentioned you were expanding on the maps and practicing writing. Would you like to show me, my friend?" He spoke cheerfully.

Ghost looked up, their shoulders and glittering wings perking up at the sight of the cartographer. Their friend! A familiar face who survived! They eagerly showed their progress. They had studiously copied their names. "All of this is your name?" He scratched his head.

Ghost nodded. They tapped where a mouth would be and motioned to Cornifer before repeating the gesture. "Say your name? All of it?" A nod.

"Hm, alright." Cornifer cleared his throat and smiled before singing to the new god. They had always seemed to enjoy his humming. "Great Knight Ghost, the Black Regnant of Hallownest and Lord of Shades. Savior of the dreaming, ascendant god of the land, granter of rest, protector, indomitable spirit, friend. I give my praise and thank you for your services from the bottom of my heart." 

So what if it didn't rhyme? Ghost seemed to be transfixed as Cornifer went from singing out their name to the praise. The knight's shoulders shook as they stood. "I am going to touch your shoulder. Is that alright?" Cornifer asked clearly, a little loud but soft. 

Ghost nodded and Cornifer rubbed his shoulder. "You've had a hard go of things, I can only imagine. You don't have to say anything. I think my wife and I will be settling in these parts. I am getting a little old to be going some of the places my trade can send me!" He laughed. "And I think it would be good to be with a friend who's been with me on my travels through this beautiful kingdom. There's actually a lot of skills I have that could be useful to a young ruler like yourself. A friend, though. Those are irreplaceable and you can never buy those."

Ghost could only nod in agreement and bent their head. Cloth. Quirrel. Myla. Tuk. People who had it coming, fools like Tiso who thought they were stronger, people who just met misfortune. People who just vanished, like Ogrim. Names they collected into their core to record, sounds and memories to put to rest if they couldn't find a spirit or whatever the grey mourner had become. They might be gone but Ghost could know this world of the living.

They could choose this world and Ghost chose as they hugged Cornifer.


	5. The Trusting Hearts of Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost slowly begins to explore in a new way and Hornet's isolation comes to a necessary end. Some much-needed laughter is had. Sorry for the delay!

Hornet did a lot of screaming into an old, dusty pillow, yelling very creative curse words and crying in the small nest she'd curled up in. She wanted to be sick, to have something to kill in place of the Wyrm because he was most certainly gone or dead! Perhaps he left a ghost to go scream at for a day or three.

The worst part is when the anger dies to embers and the tears just run out. She sleeps, gets water from the pump then simply laying down to rest herself. Foresight. Her father hadn't spoken of it often when he was around, only had spoken of it in tones cold as the grave, cold as the few times he spoke of where the Hollow Knight had come from. Did he feel grief? Did he know remorse for the little bodies at the pits below? She didn't know. She would never know for certain.

At least she had given the child who had loved him enough to bear so much agony a kind of goodbye. A kind of closure, a chance to protect something that wasn't doomed to failure for something out of their control.

She decided that since she didn't know if her father loved her older sibling or knew remorse, she would make sure people knew about the Hollow Knight's kindness instead. Her father would stay forgotten outside the evils he had done. A cautionary tale that ends do not justify any means.

Her two siblings who got to live deserve to be remembered, celebrated and honored. If the smaller one wanted it, anyway.

She decided one thing would be changed, so they could celebrate what she thought should never have been a flaw.

She would change the memorial to read Hallow Knight-and their rest would not be interrupted. They had been through enough. 

She hugged one of the pillows to her chest and simply rested her mind for a few hours, thinking of nothing and simply letting herself _be._ She was not okay still but she was less likely to maim someone when Iselda checked in on her as promised; she sat by her. "I know you want to be alone for know and that you need your rest. I started teaching your sibling to rest. Maybe a little heads up would have been nice on your sibling's nature but it's not like either of you can help that. Me and Corny, we've been talking since we finished mapping Hallownest… we intend to settle down here. We aren't going anywhere any time soon. I'm used to teaching recruits how to read, so it's not a big deal. So don't worry about dealing with what's happened all alone. Do you want company right now?"

"Not particularly but both your words and the offer are heartfelt in appreciation." Hornet spoke honestly. "Please look after Ghost while I sort through my feelings some more. I will be outside more later. I am not about to go crawl to my death."

Iselda sighed. "Alright, Hornet. I'll bring you a fasting plate before long rest." She did just that, letting Hornet have her rest.

Ghost spent some days learning to write in a more modern and consistent manner, wondering why it was that despite being a higher being, they were still unable to speak. They wrote on the slate. [Going to attempt shapeshifting, will look bad but does not hurt] They showed it to Cornifer.

They had learned from the nail incident that using void magic without warning tended to make people be fairly freaked out or worried. Cornifer had mostly gone wide-eyed, so the extent of his surprise had never been known to the young god.

At the very least, Ghost had learned to warn about when they were going to practice! They remembered too, that Hornet had told them to get their form under control when they'd risen from their elemental form with the mask.

They still found the mask an unfamiliar weight, but time would tell how long that feeling would last. This form was as much them as the childlike one of before, Ghost understood. They just needed to get used to it. 

The possibilities of being able to not be constantly be underestimated due to being so tiny was nice. Ghost decided that they liked their four arms. Being able to hold more things and the sensations were nice. The wings and being able to fly were exciting. They no longer had the crystal heart, but they could sense that they no longer needed it. They could fly fast enough and with greater control-or would be able to, with practice.

They looked down. Their legs were longer, but still a bit thin. Their tail whipped a bit to and fro as they studied it in the mirror. They decided to play with their dimensions a bit; shorter, taller, different builds, shorter or longer tail. No tail. Different hand shapes. There are many versions of Ghost that go with many different looks. This one went with a feminine presentation, wider hips, more tapered dimensions but still tall as Hornet. Yes, they liked this. Did they want to change pronouns? No. They/them sounded best.

They wondered if Hornet was rested yet but didn't want to bother her until she was ready. She was tired, wasn't she? Ghost practiced now making an arm become tentacles and back.

That was pretty fun for a little while. What next?

When was Hornet coming out? Was she hurt? Did going down to the Abyss hurt her? Where were these worries coming from?

Ghost went into the map shop, a message on their board for Iselda. [Is Hornet okay to see? She has been resting a long time.] They wrote in the script Iselda taught.

"She'll be at the next meal Iselda and I share. She seemed to be doing better the last time Iselda checked on her. Your writing has really improved, Ghost! Do you want to keep how your form has changed?" Cornifer spoke cheerfully. "It looks very pretty for you."

Ghost nodded and wrote. [For now! I like the shape of the middle a lot.] 

The mosquito laughed. "Alright, I believe that! I have a very soft middle myself." He poked at himself. "Never an issue so far." He chuckled. "Why that form?"

[I like how Iselda and Troupe Master Grimm look, they are pretty bugs. Iselda is nicer.] Ghost wrote for Cornifer.

"You talk about that strange circus that came around? Iselda said she thought she heard fighting in there once. What happened there?" Cornifer looked confused.

[Grimm did his ritual thing and died. Ritual dance combat. Fought twice. One in the real, once in the dream against the god he was vessel to. Show you him!] Ghost wrote and ran off.

"Show… a dead bug?" Cornifer whispered to himself and waited until Ghost came with a very much alive tiny mothlike grub with red eyes, black and white head, red belly and black wings. The strange hatchling made cute cooing sounds. "This is… Grimm?" He guessed.

[Grimmchild.] Ghost wrote. [I take care of him and feed him fear and fire.] 

Because this sounds so very sane and reasonable, Cornifer nodded. "I suppose you're a small vessel like Ghost was." He reasoned accurately. "My home is yours as it is Ghost's as long as you need it little it, little one."

He held out his hand and the grub bumped head against it, rubbing affectionately against it. The little thing chortled and babbled as young grubs did. [Grimmchild likes you! He is not affectionate with other bugs. I will show him to Hornet and Iselda. I hope they get along. We should do that outside, Grimmchild spits fire.]

"Yes, Ghost that's an important thing to tell me about." He laughed. "Come on, let's show you a bit of cooking. You might not eat much, but it's nice to know how to do it for friends that need food."

He began to show the basics to the young god, who listened raptly, the Grimmchild resting between their horns as they prepared a meal together. Both were particularly enchanted by the concept of frying in a skillet, between fire and the iron Ghost could handle like a nail, as well as cutting things for the frying. Getting things cut mostly even was the challenge.

The women were surprised by the two serving up food, Cornifer humming his usual melody. "Ah, welcome home Iselda. Good to see you, Hornet!" He spoke cheerfully. "Ghost helped me make this, so let's be sure to thank them for it."

Ghost stood proudly, wiggling and tail flicking.

"Much appreciation, Ghost. As well as for letting me have my rest. I needed that time. It has been a long time since I simply took time to rest." Hornet laughed a bit and patted the knight on the head. Grimmchild eyed her but did not make any moves.

The four sat down together, though Ghost didn't take any of the food. They were fascinated by the way the other three ate, despite their apparent inability to enjoy food. 

Hornet put down the eating knife. "Thank you, Iselda and Cornifer for the hospitality. Ghost can commune with me directly due to our shared sire. I hear you're working to help them write in the modern way common to travelers these days. Thank you for that kindness."

"It's nothing, your sibling already had some writing, it was just in really old runes I only know because of my prior work. High Hallownest is not common anymore, Hornet."

Hornet gave Ghost a long stare. "Where in the darkness's name did you learn High Hollownest runes?"

[Don't remember. Don't remember anything from before falling into the King's Pass to come here except for the birthplace.] The knight wrote.

"Probably won't remember anything from before then, the wastes are notorious for that." Hornet commented. "Just as well."

She rubbed at the sides of her mask. "Alright. I've had rest. Ghost is more able to communicate and I can interpret anything they say that they don't know how to write. We need to get something up and running. We've found a good amount of survivors and brought the sane ones to Dirtmouth. There's others, but we've got… some issues to settle."

"Is there still going to be a Hallownest?" Iselda asked. "It sounds a bit silly, but that kingdom's been in stasis and has been considered dead by most other places outside it for a very long time."

Ghost started to write. [Yes, there will be a Hallownest, it's still alive. People still believe in it and I can feel the burn of the king's brand in my shell. Is there a word for when a new ruler comes?] 

Cornifer clapped. "Ah, yes there is! There's dynasty, era… though you are technically a part of the same dynasty since you are the child of the last ruler. I'm afraid I know very little of Hallownest's history myself outside the most basic things."

"There's a relic seeker I spoke to in the City of Tears I spoke to a while back. I believe he's still alive. He sometimes comes out to look at the Hollow Knight memorial but he's sane. Mostly." Hornet spoke dryly. "He traded some artifacts with the knight here. I checked on him. Yes, I kept an eye on your progress and yes, I keep an eye on those who survive in this kingdom in general. He found ancient artifacts from before my sire found this kingdom. Despite what he claimed, intelligence in bugs existed long before he came along. The problem was that it was far from equal and often came with chains of subservience. He gave people choice and asked for little in return. Follow the law. You didn't have to worship him. His light was given to all, equally. The other option that never asked for anything was through the Mask Maker, who gives masks to the faceless and any who desire them. The masks hail from the time of the ancient caste, the kingdom that worshipped the darkness. That worshipped, well… what Ghost became one with."

"So, different eras. The ancient era, then a pale era, then whatever Ghost's era's name becomes." Cornifer looked thoughtful. 

"That sounds reasonable to explain." Hornet leaned back. "Though I'd say break it up a little more, Ancient Era, Daybreak Era, Pale Era, Sealed Era and then whatever Ghost's era becomes known as. My sire's rule broke down not long after the infection began." She sighed. "But the sealing looms large over everything shortly before it and after. So it makes sense."

[I don't see the point in this. If it helps things make sense, I guess.] Ghost wrote down and showed to them.

"It'll help people understand how your rule will be different. For historical purposes, too." Iselda sighed. "Not my strongpoint, admittedly, but people will want to understand what happened here someday. You two kids deserve to be remembered, even if you haven't really been kids in a very long time."

[I'm older.]

"Are not." Hornet laughed. "Time in the Abyss doesn't work the same."

Ghost drew a pouting figure to Iselda and Hornet's laughter. "How is it that you aren't the queen, Hornet?" Cornifer asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"I might be called princess, but I was never in the line of succession for Hallownest; my sire never officially acknowledged me. I was to be in line for Deepnest if I could prove myself when I came of age. Things didn't work out the way anyone hoped, obviously." Hornet spoke sarcastically. "Fortunately, there's too few bugs to really form two kingdoms with. We'll be much weaker if we do. For now, we're one people. Beast and bug. I follow where Ghost leads, once they know a bit on _how_ to lead. Learning to write is one step in the right direction, in any case. Right now, we can afford to ignore propriety since there are so few bugs left, but eventually there will be a separation between Ghost and other bugs. It's an effect of the king's brand and you being a higher being. You're a bit unlucky, as well in that you are a considerably more powerful sort than father ever was, even if you are young and new to your powers. Even as half-wyrm myself, I can sense that." Hornet commented. "You are… vast."

Ghost waved out their arms, gesturing to their body and shrugged before writing. [I'm not fat.]

"Be serious!" Hornet half-shrieked in laughter.

"What is she talking about?" Iselda asked, sounding both curious and confused.

[I can show you, but it might be upsetting? Hornet screamed.] Ghost wrote.

"You surprised me. I thought it was some monstrous spirit I had no chance of defeating." Hornet muttered.

[Case in point.] Ghost wrote.

"Ugh. It's not incomprehensible, it's just. _Vast_." Hornet grumbled.

Cornifer and Iselda looked at each other. "Should we go outside for this so we don't wreck the house? Outside the village?" Iselda asked, sounding dubious.

[No need.] Ghost held out two of their hands to the wife and husband.

They took Ghost's hands. The two mortal's heads lolled forward;

Cornifer and Iselda found themselves standing not in their home, but on a strange platform with a distant dusk sky full of glorious purprles, reds and blues that faded to black behind fluffy golden clouds. Ghost stood there, back to them, a strange glowing crown on their head with three equidistant tines rising. They turned around, gestured to the couple. <You can hear me here, in your dreams.> They spoke in a genderless voice. <This is the safest way to show you. I can do this since I've eaten the goddess of dreams. This is the form any will see when I need to speak to an ordinary bug. The crown is the mark of my authority here that I usurped from her.>

"O-oh, well. I suppose that makes sense with what you wrote to me." Iselda spoke thoughtfully. "So that's how you got rid of the infection? You ate the source causing it? Can it happen again?"

<Yes. It can, but I don't want it to. That was stupid of her and stupid to do to uninvolved people.> Ghost spoke bluntly. <So it can, but it's not going to happen so long as I have the Void Heart and Sun Crown.> They turned from the couple. <This is the form tamed by my mask, a vessel to walk among bugs in but this isn't my true form.>

"Can you show us, then? We are going to accept you, no matter what Ghost." Iselda touched their shoulder, squeezing it.

"That's right. We knew when you came back with Hornet that there was no possible way that we could leave you behind. We are just mortal, we'll die someday-but we aren't going to _choose_ to leave you."

The vessel's shoulder's shook, gasps audible. <You have no idea… what that means to hear for me. Thank you. Thank you, Cornifer and Iselda.>

The pair hugged Ghost, seeing as they brought them in that black tears dripped down their face as the couple comforted them. "Shhh, it's okay, Ghost. It's okay." Cornifer hummed his usual song to calm the young god.

Ghost calmed. <Here I come. My true self.>

Black rivulets came down through the clouds, slowly, then black rivers pouring beyond the boundaries of the platform, a body diving from below, enormous hands pulling a body almost like water and smoke, darkness make manifest before them. Eight white eyes opened and looked with something beyond mortal consideration behind them looked out over their fair domain. And slowly, the higher being, this god of gods noticed the couple. Fondness came there. A hand reached for them, a finger larger than Cornifer carefully and gently brushing against them. The strength in them and control was phenomenal.

"It's good to see your face like this, too Ghost. Lord of Shades. We're here for you like this. Well. Best we can, as a few squishy mortals." Cornifer spoke jovially.

"You're still the person who cut the veggies tonight. Big or small." Iselda reached out and touched the god.

<You are scared. But you're trying.> Came Ghost's voice.

"It's respect. You're a god and this is your house. You might invite us in. You seemed nervous the first time, too." Iselda laughed a bit. "You seem just as scared, too. You might be a god and old, but your heart's still like a grub's. One kicked a few too many times by people who should have been there for you."

The small vessel body shook in their arms. "Shh… we're not leaving you behind any time soon. Not over this. We like you too much." Cornifer comforted the smaller body. "Sorry I can't hug your big body, but I'm just a regular-sized bug."

<I can feel it, Cornifer. Don't worry. It's time for you to wake up. If you want me to feel hugs in my big form just pray a little to my big name. I'll feel that just fine.> Relief was palpable in Ghost's voice.

The couple sat up back in the house as Hornet yawned. "Did you enjoy the nap?" She asked.

"Ah, yes! Quite the awesome young god you're becoming, Ghost!" Cornifer laughed and hugged the young bug. "They showed us the big face. It was really something! Looks like I'll have to actually work on some poetry skills."

"Let me do that and I'll let you sing my lyrics, dear." Iselda spoke dryly.

"Ah, it's decided. Okay, dear!" The mosquito spoke cheerfully.

Hornet coughed politely. "Right. Hallownest. The new era begins, I suppose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just wanted to clarify a thing or two since some people feel very strongly about gendered vessels!  
> I'm an enby! I enjoy having canonically agender and non-binary characters to write!  
> So to be wholly clear on Ghost's identity here:  
> Ghost here is still non-binary and technically genderless. They are also a creature of shaped voidstuff that can be whatever the hell they want to be at any given moment. They just go with a more feminine presentation for this story because they like how Iselda and Grimm look like-note that one of these two are male. They appreciate Iselda's strength as a person, as well as Grimm's own grace. Iselda rocks, okay? Ghost can choose to change it at any time and they just like it right now. They're still trying to figure out who they are as a bug and as a higher being! It may very well change! It's okay to question and explore gender identity, even when you believe you have it figured out!


End file.
